


Not a Bad Guy

by cleanlittlesecret



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleanlittlesecret/pseuds/cleanlittlesecret
Summary: Another day brings another chance for Naoki to interact with his reclusive crush.





	Not a Bad Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by tumblr user pureaudiodawesomeness’s [post.](http://pureaudiodawesomeness.tumblr.com/post/160657859311/we-only-have-one-episode-and-im-already-shipping)

Fujiki Yuusaku was so cool.

Sitting at the back of the room, staying detached from the activity around him, even napping in class after lunch—mystery clung to him, filling his silences and darkening his stares, and Naoki had always been drawn to that kind of thing. At the moment, Yuusaku was sitting with his face rested in his hand, his eyes barely open as the teacher droned on. Naoki had been furtively watching him from the other end of the table all day, quickly looking away every time Yuusaku did so much as shift in his seat.

Maybe it was shallow of him to like Yuusaku purely for his appearance, but Naoki had been _trying_ to find out more about him, okay? It was already difficult to get Yuusaku to engage in any kind of talk, so getting him to truly open up about himself was currently impossible. Naoki had been wracking his brain all day for a conversation starter with no luck so far, but if he didn’t make a move soon, classes would end without a word passing between them.

Of course, he had the old fallback of whatever the Playmaker had done recently, and he could have talked about that subject all day, but what if Yuusaku was sick of it? Playmaker was the only thing that seemed to draw his attention at all, but he never offered any information or opinions on the guy, so the conversation always turned out one-sided with Naoki giving more than he got. He would never learn anything about Yuusaku himself that way.

Well, it was already the last class of the day, and he didn’t have any better ideas, so Naoki took a steadying breath and moved down to the seat beside Yuusaku’s. “Hey, hey, Fujiki.” Yuusaku’s eyes slid open and flicked over, green and bright, almost like a freshly snapped glow stick. Luckily, Naoki had braced himself for the intensity of that gaze, so he managed to keep his voice lower than usual as he said, “Playmaker showed up again yesterday. Did you see it this time?”

A tiny shake of his head. “Did you?”

“Of course I did! Geez, don’t you pay any attention to what’s happening in Link VRAINS? Every other Duelist I know couldn’t shut up about him last night.”

“I was busy,” Yuusaku muttered, gaze returning to the board. Naoki couldn’t say he was surprised by either response or by how quickly Yuusaku had tried to duck out of the conversation, but he wouldn’t let it end there.

“Ah, you always say you’re busy with this, that, or whatever. What are you doing all the time anyways?” Did he imagine that quick glance, only a flicker of green? Was Yuusaku still listening to him? Naoki scooted just a bit closer and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess it can’t be helped. I’ll just have to take you to shows with me until you see Playmaker in action. Then you’ll understand—”

“No, thanks.”

“Wha—why not?!” Despite his effort, Naoki’s voice slipped up in volume, and Yuusaku risked a tumble into the aisle as he leaned to make space between them.

“I’m busy.”

“I didn’t specify a date! You can’t be busy all the time! You’re not even in a club!”

Yuusaku dropped his hand to look at Naoki directly. “I have things I need to do outside of school.” His stare was more than a little intimidating, but Naoki refused to back down. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but some people did say Duels were a form of communication.

“Fujiki, I challenge you to a Duel after class.” He couldn’t help puffing up his chest as he said it—that had sounded pretty cool, if he did say so himself, and even someone like Yuusaku had to have some kind of Duelist’s honor to uphold—

“Pass.”

Naoki bolted up. “ _What kind of Duelist are you?!_ ”

“ _SHIMA NAOKI!_ ”

Naoki didn’t realize he’d yelled until the teacher’s roar blasted through the classroom. All the other students were staring at him, and the teacher appeared one twitch away from hurling a stylus at his head, but the worst part was Yuusaku’s flat eyes and tightened mouth. Surely that look was a condemnation for drawing attention to where it was not wanted. Maybe Yuusaku was wishing for his death at that very moment, cursing him to horrible suffering with those acidic eyes.

“Shima-kun,” the teacher said, voice heavy with his last ounce of patience, “do you have something you would like to share with the class?”

“Uh, no, sir.” He sat.

“Do you have something you’d like to share with Fujiki-kun?”

“No, sir.” That look had burned him enough. He returned to his original seat, and the teacher resumed his lecture. Naoki snuck a glance down the table a few minutes later, but Yuusaku had put his head down and fallen asleep, apparently unruffled by what had happened. His detachment crawled under Naoki’s skin for some reason, and as class wore on, he fixated on what he was feeling. The more he analyzed it, the hotter his face grew.

Who did Fujiki Yuusaku think he was? He couldn’t hold a conversation, he never considered other peoples’ feelings, he barely paid attention in class—he was the worst! And Naoki had wasted time liking him, had even invited him to do stuff together after school! By time the lecture ended, Naoki regretted every decision he’d made since first seeing Yuusaku’s name on the classroom roster, and he went to leave without another word.

“Hey, you,” Yuusaku called, but Naoki didn’t look back.

 _God,_ he still didn’t know any of his classmates’ names. What a dumb, boring, lazy boy—

“Shima!”

Naoki whirled, perking up as the burning in his face softened to a warm glow. Yuusaku stood behind him, and gosh, he looked pretty when gentle sleepiness was softening his expression—oh, crap, was Naoki being too obvious? Had he just given himself away? Yuusaku had already psychoanalyzed him once before, so he would definitely notice something this blatant!

“It’s Shima, right?” Yuusaku looked down, drawing Naoki’s attention with those stunning eyes to a tablet stylus in his hand. “You left this at our table.”

Something like a choked _oh_ squeaked from his mouth, and Naoki scrambled to take the stylus before Yuusaku could question the noise. “Th-Thank. You. Fujiki!” He had to swallow a yell when he registered how their hands had brushed together, but again, Yuusaku appeared unfazed. Could anything break through that calm exterior?

“No problem.” Yuusaku tried to slip past him to leave, and Naoki saw his last chance. He had to say something casual, something people normally said to their classmates—to their friends, even!

“See you tomorrow, Fujiki!”

Nailed it.

“Mm. See you.” Yuusaku disappeared into the hall, but Naoki stayed planted as the classroom emptied around him, the stylus strangled by his grip.

_Our table._

_They had a table together._

Fujiki Yuusaku was so cool.


End file.
